Fairytales
by Seraephina
Summary: Speedy and Raven, stranded on a cliff, resort to fairytales to entertain each other. Oneshot.


**Found this on my hard-drive. It's silly and fluffy and melodramatic but I have a soft spot for it. Credit for the Zeus story goes to someone on Google, somewhere. (:**

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"Tell me a story," Speedy said idly. Below them, the sea kissed the rocky cliffs, a long liquid _shush _that ebbed and surged with the waves. The sun was slipping behind the horizon, drenching the water with red and gold streaks, and the rock-strewn outcrop they sat upon was still warm from the long Indian summer afternoon.

"All my stories are sad," Raven replied. "Your turn."

He angled his face to grin up at her, all freckled cheeks and strong features, his arms and legs sprawled carelessly across the small ledge. She sat straight-backed. The long lazy vowels of _lounge _were foreign to her and held no meaning.

"Oh, please," he said lightly. The dying sun caught the golden tones in the red of his hair. "Everyone has stories."

"'_Not I', said the little red hen_," Raven quipped. Speedy laughed quietly.

"Make one up, then." She opened her mouth to protest before he cut in with, "We've got nothing else to do until Robin radios in."

Raven sighed, echoing the sea below her. It was true – they were stuck here on this precarious gravel overhang until Bee and Cyborg came to pick them up in the T-Plane.

_Stranded on a cliff with Speedy_, she mused. Somehow it wasn't as vexing as she'd thought it would be when Robin announced the Titans-wide ambush on the Brotherhood of Evil three days ago.

Her mind went blank as she sought for a story to tell him, so Raven stayed silent – thinking that he'd give up if she gave no answer – and traced small swirls against the gritty ground until Speedy caught her hand up in his. It was a quick, easy action – a friendly thing, even a brotherly one – but her hand felt wrong between his fingers.

He smiled. She turned her face away.

His grin slipped as he took his hand away and asked her, quite seriously, "Please?"

Raven sighed again and turned to look at the cresting waves beyond their small rocky shelf. They surged forward – powerful, unstoppable – and strained up towards the cliffs before they fell – a graceful death – to crush against the beach, over and over and over again, a ceaseless, useless grasp for the sky and a relentless embrace with the sand. It was transfixing, mesmerizing, and so it was at the waves – not at the sunrise, not at the pebbles beneath her crossed legs, not even at Speedy – that she looked as she began.

"Once upon a time," she started, but the words were stilted and awkward in her mouth. She stopped. The sea flung itself against the cliffs.

"Go ahead," Speedy said, nudging gently at her knee.

Raven shook her head a little, clearing it. "Once upon a time," she began again, thinking hard, "before the world was covered in cities, there were just a few people living over the earth. Besides them, there were just the sun and the moon and the sea and the mountain. The sun and the moon were enchanted, in love, and hardly knew how to live without each other. The sea grew jealous of their love and looked to the strong mountain for the same affection."

She paused, wondering where the hell she was going with this story. Speedy was silent, waiting.

Raven, drawing a blank, looked back down at the sea.

In a rush she saw all of its power, its grace, its impulsiveness and strength; the way the seafoam frothed lightly at the crests of the waves and the quick hush of its passing over the sand – and suddenly, surprising her with its simplicity, the story bloomed in her mind as if it had always been waiting to rush over her lips.

"The sea was capricious," she said, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "She showed the cliffs her seafoam hair, her coral jewelry, her endless depths and treasures. She told him of the poets she had entranced with her beauty, of the sailors she had seduced with her strength and the thinkers she had stunned with her secrets and mysteries. She wasn't in love with the mountain but she wanted to have him.

"The mountain saw through her, of course. He knew she was flighty and fickle and cared nothing for him. And he was in love with the sun, anyway – he turned his face to her light and reached for her always, and grew taller and taller to try to touch her.

"The sea was insulted, of course, and in her spite she tossed huge waves towards small, far-distant towns, hoping to crush them.

"But gradually she grew calm. She looked to the mountain, who, for all her rage, had barely noticed her anger, and was impressed at his strength. She saw his beauty, the way he was rough and imperfect and lovely. And she saw the way he worshipped the sun and forever strained to reach her. And slowly – though she hardly knew it – she grew to love him. After many years had passed she found that she loved him more than she loved her own beauty and strength, and one day she gathered all her formidable courage and called to him that she loved him.

"He turned his sun-kissed cheeks to her. 'You love me?' he asked, and laughed. 'But why would I love you – you who drown and destroy – when I could love the Sun, who does nothing but care for the creatures and plants and people who live on my cliffs?'

"The sea was stunned, and then furious. She flung herself against him, over and over, trying to break his rocky bones. She caused huge storms that struck against small seaside towns far away and sank the fishing ships in their harbors. She screamed with her terrible rage, causing high winds that tore at the shrubbery along the mountain's paths and killed many people.

"But when her fury was spent, and she was so tired that she could barely reach for the sand, the sea found she loved the mountain still.

"She still reaches for him. Every second of every day, she strains to touch him. Sometimes she does, and he hardly even notices, but it means everything to her. And she will never, ever stop."

Her voice trailed away after the last word, and Raven suddenly felt acutely ashamed. Heat prickled at her chest and cheeks. She didn't know where to look.

Speedy was quiet for a long time. Finally he stirred and laced his fingers with hers again.

"You're right," he said. "Your stories are sad."

Raven looked out across the ocean, straight to the hazy horizon line. Her stomach tightened. She desperately wanted to see Bee and Cyborg rocketing towards them in the T-Plane, but at the same time, her (sweaty) hand felt like it fit Speedy's perfectly for the first time. It was at once uncomfortable and exhilarating.

"Hope I didn't bore you," she eventually said. Her voice sounded cold and distant to her own ears.

He rolled his eyes. "What is it with girls and putting themselves down all the time? That was a kickass story, and you know it. Better than any of my crap."

Raven felt her muscles loosen. "See, now that's just hypocrisy. You just put _yourself _down."

Speedy pulled a face. "Being called out on all your bullshit kinda sucks after a while."

Raven shrugged. "I call it how I see it."

Speedy laughed. "Oh, burn." He flopped down onto his side, facing her. "So anyway, does all this sudden camaraderie mean that story time is still a go?"

"That was my only one. It's your turn."

"Hmmm." Speedy's lips twisted a little, and he continued the path her fingers had left off, dragging circles into the gravel. "You know, there's a legend my people tell sometimes."

Raven opened her mouth, a question tugging at her lips, but it flashed into her mind that Speedy had grown up on an Indian reserve – far from these cliffs and this ocean, farther still from the sleek cities they now called home.

Speedy – his eyes trained, almost dream-like, on the shushing waves – didn't appear to notice her parted lips.

"When Zeus created the world," he continued, his voice lazy and quiet, "he made humans with two arms and two legs and two eyes and a mouth, and we were born. But when we came into existence Zeus found that he was so terrified of our power that he split us apart, into two people. Our other half is our soul mate."

Her heart hung beatless for a moment before she snorted. "Don't tell me you believe in fairytales."

He slipped her small hand inside his own. His skin was rough and warm. She thought there might be electricity arcing between their palms.

She had no answer when he asked, "What – don't you?"


End file.
